Trust
by Acidwing
Summary: Ya know, 'tis not healthy ta lock away a part of yer soul. The Hollows are kinda like Zanpakuto, if ya don't trust 'em, ya'll get problems.


The nameless Hollow shifts awkwardly, his clawed hands gripping the enormous cleaver as wary gold-on-black eyes study their dysfunctional little family. Pharaoh grins at him and simply starts talking.

He talks of everything and nothing, old tales he heard somewhere long ago and ridiculous situations he regularly got into, the life he had once and the one he has now – and if his words come out slightly bitter because it still hurts sometimes, he doesn't mind. He's had over a century to come to terms with everything and he regrets nothing.

He talks about eerily beautiful desert under eternally dark sky and stone trees that reach higher than he ever thought possible. He talks about all the misadventures in the world of the living and the weirdness of a certain shopkeeper. He speaks of his friends, his family, and the years they've spent together.

The lizard-like Hollow crouches low laying his heavy Zanpakuto on the ground. He is alert and wary though the exhaustion from the recent fight is showing in his posture. But he is still here and it seems like he's giving them the benefit of doubt, so Pharaoh just gives him a Cheshire cat grin and continues talking.

He tells the youngest member of their family – because like it or not, the kid is one of them now – how overdramatic Rose can be and how amazing his music is, how utterly terrifying Lisa is and how no one in their right mind would cross her, how there is literally no difference between Hiyori and Hydra because they both are violent little pipsqueaks-

The incoherent scream of rage from aforementioned pipsqueak and Cero flying right over his head promptly spur him into action, and he ducks and scurries away. He is not sure if it's Shinigami or Hollow in control of her body and out for his blood – more than likely, both of them – but as he's said, there is no difference. He barely manages to grab the sandal she is swinging around before it can connect to the unmasked side of his face and winds his arm around her neck in a chokehold tugging her blond pigtails with his free hand as she shrieks and curses at him.

Their comedy act is rewarded by the sound of distorted laughter coming from the young Hollow. It sounds more than a little disturbing and the smirk visible between the parted jaws of his mask looks positively psychotic, but Pharaoh is used to reverberating voices of his friends and he's seen far scarier things then the kid. And when their guest lowers himself to the ground finally letting go of his weapon and places his chin over his crossed white wrists, Pharaoh can smile in earnest because if this is not a sign of trust then he doesn't know what is.

The captive blonde in his arms stomps on his foot and he lets her go, and if the understanding in her eyes is anything to go by, than he is forgiven, at least for now. He begins another insane tale and watches how the kid's muscles finally relax and his thick tail moves lazily behind him.

When he gets tired of all the talking, the rest of his family takes over the storytelling, bickering and interrupting each other with angry shouts of "That's not how it happened!"

After what seems like ages, the boy's Resurreccion crumbles around him and Pharaoh is glad to see the Hollow so calm and peaceful. Half-lidded black and gold eyes meet his own and Pharaoh nods in understanding and swears to himself to never break the tentative trust placed in him, in all of them. The boy closes his eyes and relaxes completely, then suddenly jerks back to his feet but this time as a Shinigami. He looks uncomfortable but not afraid and it's obvious he was aware of everything that happened, so Pharaoh retreats to the depths of his mind letting his other self step forward.

Shinji stretches with relish as his half-mask turns into dust and his bleached white skin regains its healthy color. He smirks at the teen standing before him and drawls lazily, "Well, was it that bad ta let 'im out for a while?"

The only answer he gets is an angry scowl and stubborn silence, so the former captain continues in the same slightly mocking tone. "Ya know, 'tis not healthy ta lock away a part of yer soul. The Hollows are kinda like Zanpakuto, if ya don't trust 'em, ya'll get problems. Just let 'im in control once in a while, talk ta 'im, get ta know 'im an' stuff like that."

The scowl is replaced by frown – Shinji privately thinks it isn't much of an improvement – and the orange-haired Shinigami asks, "Why?"

At the questioningly raised eyebrow he elaborates, "Why are you doing this?"

He is answered by the bitter smile. "We spent years tryin' ta beat down our Hollows, kid. An' let me tell ya, there's nothin' worse than fightin' yerself. 'Twas ages till we got it right. An' I don't wanna see ya go through the same stuff. An' yer a Visored now, an' like it or not, we're family. An' we take care of our own. So, if ya need anythin', we'll be glad ta help ya."

The frown lessens slightly and the teen nods at them. "Thanks." Then he looks around uncomfortably, says "I should get going," and leaves their warehouse in a hurry.

Mashiro jumps closer to their unofficial leader and pouts childishly, "Why does Berry-chan have to leave?"

The Cheshire cat smile widens slightly as he turns to the green-haired girl, "Don'tcha worry, he'll come back, I know it."

* * *

A/N: Well, I've seen stories where Ichigo learns to get along with his Hollow and later teaches the same to the other Visored. Here it's the other way around. Oh, and Bleach doesn't belong to me, obviously.


End file.
